


Tweek is an Imp, not a Demon

by ClydeDonovan



Category: South Park
Genre: Craig - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Gen, Imp Tweek Tweak, M/M, craig tucker - Freeform, creek - Freeform, imp tweek, imp tweek phone destroyer, phone destroyer, phonedestroyer, south park - Freeform, south parks, southpark, tweek - Freeform, tweek tweak - Freeform, youth pastor craig, youth pastor craig phone destroyer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 09:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12909195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClydeDonovan/pseuds/ClydeDonovan
Summary: youth pastor craig and imp tweek fic whta more do you want from me





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tweek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tweek/gifts), [Craig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craig/gifts).



> dude holy shit okay i lost all motivation for this i genuinely need comments of people telling me to keep going. i have the first three chapters but?? i need to know if i ts good at all to continue rrriiipp  
> the explicit stuff is like planned for way later in the story

It burned.  
Body contorting, wings splaying out frantically, tail erect, a pitiful cry ringing through the air-  
Fire was the only description he knew. The agony seared his veins. Emerald eyes were stained a bloody crimson.  
Words oozed through layers of tar, mushing into the monster’s ears, settling uncomfortably into his skull.  
“Fucking sweet..."  
"What do we do now, Pete?"  
"Shit, I don't even know, Firkle. Demon from below! Rise up! Bow to my every whim!"  
The thick ooze enveloping the creature faded. It groaned.  
"RISE!"  
Silence.  
"Did you kill it...?" A gravely voice questioned softly.  
"Nuh uh!"  
"You killed it!" This voice was different, higher pitched. Angry.  
"Did not!"  
"Did too!"  
"W-what's. What's going on..." Words staggered like cripples from the frightened creature’s mouth, making their pilgrimage to the light.  
"See? It's fine. Demon! I summon -"  
The creature bolted upright.  
Blood faded from the leafy irises of the monster. Horns barely stuck out from his disheveled, thorny crown of hair. Glittering red wings folded, shaking, onto a faded and ripped green button down. Kneeling inside of a ritualistic pentagram, the shaking demon radiated unease. Darkness swallowed the room.  
The goth kids backed away from their pentagram. As it opened its mouth to speak, the children trembled in fear, leaning away.  
"I-I'll have y-y-you know t-that I'm an imp."  
It felt as if the words had come from a bad voice over. This terrifying creature sounded as if it were young and… frightened.  
"You... you're not a demon?" The first voice spoke cautiously.  
Pete. The imp registered unconsciously. He's their leader. The one who summoned me.  
"O-of course not. I'll have you know that imps are a t-type of demon, s-sure, but are a sub-type of demon t-that are exclusive to t-the third layer of hell, in f-f-fact..." 'Fact' was all else he could get out. The imp knew that look well enough- the other demons were famous for it. They looked at him like that nearly daily.  
Annoyance.  
He shut up. Maybe he was still in hell. Though all signs pointed to the fact that this was, indeed, the overworld, there was certainly not a change in behavior.  
"Like, totally cool, bro." A feminine voice rose above the two quarreling, pissy ones.  
Well... previously quarreling. At her voice, they'd faded into the background. Only subtle glares no human would notice.  
The imp did.  
"Soooo... aren't you, like, totally powerful? Can you, like, kill all conformists or something?" She rolled her eyes at the phrase 'conformists.' The girl’s clothes seemed as if they’d been badly dyed black, and a long, almost fake looking, cigar holder that was long as her arm. Her hair stuck up wildly, yet it was obviously not natural.  
“Well… ?”  
The imp started.  
"I-I can burn things!" Eyes melding to red, face scrunching, tail flicking, the flame arose. A spark exploded in the tiny imp’s chest. I can do it! I really can!  
The corner of their carpet smoldered, blinked into a pathetic flame, trembled, and blew out.  
His tail drooped. Hours of practice for the minuscule task flashed before his eyes, and, momentarily, tears swam in his vision. It’d worked once before.  
"Okay, totally lame, soo-rraay!” The imp flinched. “What's your name? Do demons even have names?"  
"I-I'm an imp." The words hit the floor emptily. Tears spattered the ragged carpet.  
"What's your name then, imp?"  
"Tweek Tweak."


	2. Throw Yourself Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> craigy boy. craig. craiiiggggyyyyyy please comment i have no inspiration for the next few chapters my family is dying  
> also thts a real bible verse szsdfhaj

“Mr Tucker! Wait!”  
Craig turned. It'd been a long day, and Sunday school had just let out. After cleaning up, Craig had himself a dark coffee. Stress was building up on him, and anyone who may know him, knew in turn that he hated coffee. Too bad no one knew him that well.   
“How may I be of assistance, Hannah?”   
He took a deep swig of the foul black liquid. Maybe she had a question about their teaching today. Maybe she needed a ride home. Craig carpooled kids from his Sunday school class often, to their mother’s delight.   
“Is it true?”  
Pure panic flashed in his mind. They knew. They knew and were going to kick him out of the church. They knew and would condemn him and run him off and tell the school and he couldn't afford to move again they knew and-  
“I-is what true?” Terror was badly hidden behind his nasally voice. Emotion was never Craig’s strong point, but this was something he was far accustomed to, after all the years. Preaching had been his escape. Preaching was a place no one questioned him. This was something he loved, and everyone could tell. His faith practically radiated through the surrounding citizens.  
“The monster in the woods.” Hannah’s voice quavered.  
“What?” Mind whirling, Craig realized she knew nothing. He was safe. “No, no of course there's no monster in the woods.” Concealing an untimely laugh of relief, he focused on her plight again. “Who tried to scare you?”  
“I saw it. It looked like someone your age, but with wings, fangs, demon horns and a pointed tail… just like today's lesson…! I saw him yesterday.” She bit her lip as her words began to come out faster, more panicked. “He was flying, he, he landed in a tree in my backyard! Everything felt wrong and terrifying, and, and when i woke up the tree was on fire! Has the demon come to test me? Like Satan tested jesus? What if he tells me to run in the road? Or, or-”   
“Hannah. Take a deep breath for me. In, out, count to five. In, and out… “ Craig tried to calm the panicked ten year old. It hadn't been long since he was that panicked young school boy himself. Seeing the twinkling eyes and horns rising from the ashes… the wings splaying out unnaturally…   
If You are the Son of God, throw Yourself down.  
The verse fell into Craig’s mind as if a warning. He recognized instantly where it was from.   
“I'm sure you were imagining it. Remember, God protects Jesus in the end and saves Him, as He is faithful to His Father.”  
Hannah seemed unconvinced.   
“But… he was so real… and the fire… ”   
Unease rippled through Craig’s body. “Do you need a ride home? I can explain how God speaks on demon’s temptations and casts them away, I’m sure it’ll help ease your mi-”  
Hannah shook her head frantically. “Actually it wasn't that scary. Um, thank you Mr Tucker… I'll walk home… !”   
Craig chuckled to himself as he followed the hurried third grader out the glass door.   
It had been a long day. Filled with meaningless mistakes, mindless tasks, and still not over, Craig sighed.   
Yet… something felt wrong. Something was making Craig uneasy. This was more than the stresses of working three jobs. More than stress concerning concealing his identity. He glanced around the parking lot nervously.   
It was a good neighborhood. Nothing remarkable had happened in years. The houses were small and tattered, and the sidewalk seemed as if it were digging its way to hell, but the folks were kind. There wasn't a need to fight, steal, harm. A place of holy worship was their community center, and each and every member of the neighborhood attended regulatory.   
The car was a few feet away by now, he unconsciously registered.  
A sharp crack! echoed through the forest. Craig Tucker, in his years of wisdom and experience, was reduced to a fearful choir boy once more, memories flashing through his mind. He bolted for the car.   
If You are the Son of God, throw Yourself down.  
His hands scrambled against the door, fumbling for the keys.  
If You are the Son of God,  
The key smacked against the lock, twisting against it in agony   
Throw Yourself down.  
Something whimpered in the distance, an unnatural sound. Like a hurt animal, a terrified child-  
Throw  
The whimpering grew louder as the seconds grew longer-  
Yourself   
Finally, the door flung open.  
Down.  
He catapulted himself into the rusty vehicle.  
THROW YOURSELF DOWN.   
Craig slammed the car door and locked it.


End file.
